


Trying Part II: I Feel Loved

by chochowilliams



Series: The Boy With the Pink Hair [2]
Category: Gravitation
Genre: AU, Drama, Language, M/M, Male Slash, Original Characters - Freeform, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-19
Updated: 2012-11-19
Packaged: 2017-11-19 01:51:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/567721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chochowilliams/pseuds/chochowilliams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eighteen-year-old Shuichi Shindou is nothing like the sixteen year old who was sent to live with his grandmother after a brutal assault. For the first time in his life, he is happy, healthy and in love. Starts where Part I ended.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trying Part II: I Feel Loved

**Trying Part II: I Feel Loved**  
 **The Boy With The Pink Hair series**  
 **Written by:** chochowilliams  
 **Disclaimer:** I do not own _Gravitation_ or the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.  
 **Summary:**  Eighteen-year-old Shuichi Shindou is nothing like the sixteen year old who was sent to live with his grandmother after a brutal assault. For the first time in his life, he is happy, healthy and in love.   
**Warning:** AU, M/M, Language, Drama, Romance, OCs  
 **Pairings:** Shuichi/Eiri  
 **Inserts:** recap from Part I, “I Feel Loved”, Depeche Mode, Exciter  
 **A/N:** This is the second installment in The Boy With The Pink Hair series. In order they are: “Trying Part I: What’s The Use”  & “Trying Part II: I Feel Loved”. Enjoy!

 

* * *

 

_It’s the dark night of my soul_   
_And temptation’s taking hold_   
_But through the pain and the suffering_   
_Through the heartache and trembling_

_I feel loved_   
_I feel loved_

_As the darkness closes in_   
_In my head I hear whispering_   
_Questioning and beckoning_   
_But I’m not taken in_

_I feel loved_   
_I feel loved_

_From the depths of my emptiness_   
_Comes a feeling of inner bliss_   
_I feel wanted, I feel desired_   
_I can feel my soul on fire_

_I feel loved_   
_I feel loved_

**\- “I Feel Loved”, Depeche Mode, Exciter**

 

* * *

 

**That Evening - M. Murakami Memorial Hospital - Arashi, Tokyo, Japan**

With his back to the surgical waiting room, Shuichi stood before the water cooler staring down into the water that filled the cone-shaped paper cup that was grasped lightly in his hand. Whether the water within rippled because his breath played along the surface or because his hand was trembling, he wasn‘t sure.

Other than him and his mother, the waiting room right down the hall from the surgical wing was empty. Even the desk the volunteer usually sits at was empty. It was that late.

Without looking, he knew his mother was staring at the television--secured high on the wall--that was playing the local evening newscast from the very chair she commandeered when she first arrived; as almost no time had passed between when he called her to when she arrived, he figured she’d caught the Bullet train--either that or she learned how to Apparate.

He wasn’t sure how long he has been here awaiting word on his grandmother. Not long after they arrived, a doctor came out to inform him that his grandmother had had a severe heart attack and that they were prepping her for immediate emergency surgery. Other than that, there has been no word or update on her condition. He was hoping that was a good thing.

There was a quiet sniffle from behind him, which had the tightness in Shuichi’s throat and chest constricting just that little bit more.

Then a whirring noise, loud in the silence of the hospital, sounded. It reminded Shuichi of those automatic doors at the supermarket.

At the sound of approaching footsteps, he downed the rest of his water, grimacing at the “something’s-been-swimming-in-it” taste of it, before crumbling the paper cup and tossing it in the garbage can.

As he turned around, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed his mother had snapped to attention and was now standing--her hands shaking visibly, their knuckles white from their death grip on her purse.

Shuichi crossed towards his mother, his hand seeking hers, as the doctor Shuichi recognized vaguely from earlier came into view.

“Maiko Negishi,” the middle-aged doctor, who had a light sprinkling of gray at his temples, called out.

Mrs. Shindou stepped forward. “Yes.”

“I‘m Akira Fujisaki,” he introduced himself, “cardiologist on staff here at the hospital.”

“How is she? How‘s my mother?”

“It was touch and go there for a while, but she’s going to be just fine,” Dr. Fujisaki said with a smile.

A surge of relief so great almost brought Shuichi to his knees. He was never going to forget the sight of his grandmother lying, pale, cold, and unresponsive on the kitchen floor. The image was forever burned into his memory.

As tears of what Shuichi assumed were relief filled his mother’s eyes, she sobbed quietly, “Oh thank you God!”

“There was a blockage in her right coronary artery, which was what led to the heart attack,” Dr. Fujisaki explained, “but we cleared the artery of the blockage and like I said, she will be fine.” The suddenly grim expression on the doctor’s face had Shuichi squirming with unease. “I’m going to be honest here: she is very lucky to be alive. Next time, she might not be. That’s why I’m going to be putting her on a strict diet and exercise routine.”

Both mother and son cringed. Maiko Negishi was not going to be too happy about that; not one little bit.

“As you both may be aware,” the doctor continued, “Mrs. Negishi is morbidly obese. This had led to many health problems, which include diabetes and now this heart attack. If she does not lose a significant amount of weight and start eating healthier, she will die.”

Shuichi heard his mother’s breathing hitch. He himself was feeling as if his entire body was being trapped within a vise that kept tightening. It made it exceedingly difficult to catch his breath.

“H-how…?” his mother stammered.

“Months.”

Shuichi felt numb with shock.

Dr. Fujisaki’s expression softened as he regarded the two of them. “But like I said, the surgery went well and she will be fine as long as she sticks to her new diet and exercise routine. For that, you might have to get involved, make sure she sticks to her diet and exercises.”

_Yeah, that’ll happen_ , Shuichi thought with a mental snort that turned out not to be so mental if the answering smirk on Dr. Fujisaki’s face was anything to go by. His grandmother loved to eat and was not too fond of exercising. That was not to say Maiko Negishi was a lazy couch potato. In fact, she was just the opposite. She was very active for someone of her age, but after her husband died followed not long after by her daughter and then her son--she’s never been the same since.

His mother was nodding.

“Now, do you have any questions?”

“Can we see her?”

“Of course. I’ll have someone come to get you to bring you to her in a little while.”

“Thank you.”

With a nod, Dr. Fujisaki swept out of the room.

“Oh thank God,” Shuichi heard his mother whisper as he saw her collapse into the nearest chair out of the corner of his eye.

When Shuichi glanced over his shoulder at her, he noticed that her eyes were closed and her hands were folded against her lips, which were moving silently. She was praying, he realized. Shuichi took the seat next to her and laid his head on her shoulder.

While not being the religious sort, even someone who was borderline agnostic/spiritual had to admit that someone had to have been looking after his grandmother that day. There was no other explanation as to how she could have survived such a massive heart attack.

_Thank God indeed_ , he thought.

 

* * *

 

An hour later, Shuichi found himself in the private room his mother had been able to procure for her mother. “Maiko Negishi” was already on the placard outside the room.

As it was quite late by that time, their visit had to be short, but they were invited to return at eight the next morning when visiting hours began for the day.

His grandmother was still a bit groggy and as such, her words were a little slurred as if she’d had a little too much to drink and her movements were lethargic.

“Hey Ma. How’re you feeling?” his mother asked as she crossed to the bedside.

“Like I’ve been slipped the mickey,” came the frank reply that had Shuichi snorting in amusement.

Narrowed violet eyes zeroed in on Shuichi--who was standing near the foot of the bed slightly behind and the right of his mother--and looked him up and down. Shuichi fought the urge to squirm. Then her eyes widened in realization. “Shuichi? Oh my,” she exclaimed. She opened her arms. “C’mere! Let me look at you!”

“Hi Grandma,” Shuichi greeted as he allowed himself to be engulfed in his grandmother’s arms.

“You’re practically skin and bones!”

Shuichi rolled his eyes at the over exaggeration.

“I can practically wrap my arms around you twice,” she continued as she pulled back enough to eye her only grandson up and down once again. “I haven’t been able to do that since you were five years old.” She turned her sharp gaze towards her daughter. “You‘re not starving the boy are ya? He’s a growing boy and needs to eat. It’s not healthy to starve yourself.”

“His doctors placed him on a diet and exercise routine,” her daughter explained. “He‘s lost over a hundred pounds so far.”

Shuichi found himself blushing at the open pride on his mother’s face.

Her face twisted into a grimace, Maiko sneered. “Diets. Blah!”

At his grandmother’s comment, Shuichi found himself snickering around a toothy grin.

Maiko Negishi’s opinions of diets were well known and synced with his own. What was the point in denying yourself from indulging in a specific food group or cutting yourself off from a certain component in food such as carbohydrates? It would just increase the chances of your willpower slipping somewhere along the line, which would cause you to go on a binge, which in turn would ruin your diet and set you back.

In the three months since the assault, Shuichi had learned from the nutritionist his doctor sent him to see as part of his therapy that it wasn’t so much about _what_ you ate, but _how much_ you ate. You could still eat that French bread pizza for lunch, but instead of eating both portions that come in the box stick to half of one.

It had taken some getting used to, especially when his stomach would rumble and protest the lack of substance, but it worked and now he couldn‘t stuff his face even if he tried.

When he first learned about being put on a diet and having to exercise regularly, he’d protested and thrown one of his famous temper tantrums, but when he started to realize that his clothes made him appear as if he were a child playing dress up in his parents’ clothes, he’d actually started to cry.

Speaking of leaking…

Shuichi excused himself and left the room in search of a bathroom. If he remembered correctly, there was one right down the hall.

Before he could take more than a step out of the room, his grandmother’s voice stopped him.

“I see his face is starting to clear up.”

“Yeah.” That was his mother. “His new dermatologist said he‘ll most likely be left with some light scaring, though.”

“What happened to his old one?”

“Transferred out of the prefecture. I don’t remember where they said he moved. Not that I’m complaining. Guy was incompetent. He’s had Shu on many different medications over the years and none of them ever did anything. But this new woman who took over his practice put him on Retin-A and a pill--I can’t remember the name of it--and within a week, I started to notice a difference.”

His grandmother made a noise that was half scoff, half snort. “Isn’t that always the case? The man makes a mess of things and the woman has to clean up after him.”

Silently chuckling, which was echoed loudly his mother, Shuichi grinned.

Maiko Negishi was not one to go to rallies where all the women burned their bras in protest, but was a regular woman who grew up in a household full of men.

As Shuichi started to turn away, his grandmother asked about his glasses; or more accurately, the lack of them.

“He lost them,” his mother explained. Her voice was flat and Shuichi knew why. It has been three months since he’s seen his glasses. “And when we went to get him new ones, his optometrist asked if he wanted to try contacts…”

 

* * *

 

**Next Morning**

“If he thinks I’m going on some--some--I refuse to eat rabbit food!”

Pursing his lips to keep his chuckles at bay, Shuichi watched--his violet eyes sparkling in amusement--as his mother tried to speak reason to her mother who was ranting and raving about the injustice of being forced on a diet by a man, of all people, who obvious doesn’t know what he’s talking about.

“Dr. Fujisaki said-”

“I know what that fraud said!”

“-if you don’t lose some weight-”

“Yadda yadda yadda.”

Clearing his throat, Shuichi stepped forward. He knew of one way to get his grandmother to agree to going on the diet and exercise routine Dr. Fujisaki wants to put her on. It might just work; he hoped. If it didn’t--well, there wasn’t anything anybody could do. Maiko Negishi was a grown woman.

“How about a bet?” he suggested, his eyes twinkled in mischief.

Maiko Negishi eyed her grandson. “What sort of bet?”

Shuichi inwardly grinned in triumph. “Well,” he drawled while his mother watched on silently, “I bet I can lose more weight than you.”

Violet eyes, their once vivid color dull with age, narrowed. “That so.”

Gazing at his grandmother out of the corner of his eye, he continued, “If I do, you have to buy me a new synthesizer.”

“And if you don’t?”

It was difficult to decide what a fair trade would be. His grandmother was not one to accept gifts--not for Christmas, her birthday or any other special occasion. She claimed to not need anything or she didn’t want people to waste their money on her. Of course, nobody ever listened, which was a shame because most of the gifts she ended up getting, she gave away. Most. Not all. Among those she tended to keep was sponge candy and items she could use in her gardening.

Shuichi shrugged. “I’ll buy you a year’s supply of sponge candy.”

Though Maiko Negishi’s eyes lit up, she still hesitated.

“Unless you’re scared of course; not that I blame you,” he continued carelessly. “I mean, I already have a hundred pounds on you-”

“You’re on,” his grandmother interrupted, her face set in determination.

They shook hands.

The bet was on.

 

* * *

 

**Two Years Later - March 25 - Arashi, Tokyo, Japan - Taneuma High School**

An earsplitting roar resounded from the auditorium where the graduation ceremony was taking place that beautiful spring morning. Moments later, the doors were thrown open and a sea of students and their family poured out into the courtyard. Amongst the crowd filing out, one figure stood out amidst the rest. This young man was easily distinguishable from his peers not because of his academic achievements or even because he was particularly tall or remarkably short. Oh, no. Vice-Principal Koriyama caught sight of this particular graduating senior because he was the only one bold enough to break the stringent dress code on Graduation Day. She pursed her lips in disapproval, though the corner of her lips twitched. _Very clever_ , she thought with reluctant admiration--though she would never admit it aloud. There was very little she or any of her colleagues could do to punish a student on this particular day for not following the school rules. The most they could do was tell the graduating student that they will be unable to walk across the stage. Of course, it was too late for even that as the ceremony was over. How nobody noticed this violation until now was beyond her. It wasn’t as if you could ignore neon pink hair, especially in a sea of black and white.

As if feeling eyes upon him, the student glanced about him. When his violet gaze caught her’s, she cocked an eyebrow in question. He merely grinned at her and held up a black--thing that he then started twirling around his finger. That was when she realized what it must be: a wig. That was how he was able to get away with such a blatant discard for the school rules. Sighing, Vice-President Koriyama shook her head. This caused the student’s grin to widen even more.

With a wink, the student was swallowed up by the crowd.

 

* * *

 

“You’re mother couldn’t make it huh?” eighteen-year-old Hiroshi Nakano inquired of his best friend who was skipping along besides him as happy as he‘d ever seen him, humming merrily.

“Couldn’t get the time off,” was the answer. “She’s flying down in a couple weeks for my birthday though.”

“That’s good.” A nodding Hiro gazed at his friend out of the corner of his eye. He took in the short, spiky pink hair and snorted. “I still cannot believe you did that Shuichi Shindou.”

Seventeen-year-old Shuichi Shindou flashed his best friend a brilliantly white toothy grin. “Should have seen my grandma’s reaction when she saw it,” he snickered.

Snorting soundlessly, Hiro shook his head. “Is it temporary at least?”

“Nope,” Shuichi exclaimed brightly.

“You’re something else, Shu.”

“Thank you!”

They walked in silence down the street for a while before Hiro spoke again. “You’re coming tonight, right?”

Turning around so that he was dancing backwards, Shuichi beamed at his best friend. “Wouldn‘t miss it!”

“Good because I am not dealing with Tatsuha or Fujisaki by myself.”

His grin widening, Shuichi snickered at his friend’s plight. “Ah, c’mon. They ain’t that bad.”

Hiro chocked. “Are you kidding? Not that bad. We are talking about the same Tatsuha Uesugi and Suguru Fujisaki, right?”

Still grinning and his violet eyes twinkling madly, Shuichi nodded.

“Tatsuha’s a horny pervert and Fujisaki--well, Fujisaki is Fujisaki.”

Shuichi snickered.

Two years ago when he transferred here to Taneuma High School from his old school, Byakko All Boys High School, Hiro and Suguru were the first friends he made; they were also the first people he’d met after the school officials and the medical staff at the hospital since moving here to Arashi. Sometimes, he wondered if they would have ever become friends if they hadn’t been in band together.

As for Tatsuha, he was the one who befriended Tatsuha first then introduced him to the others. They’d met at the school’s Nittle Grasper Fan Club--started by Tatsuha himself. Shuichi had his grandmother to thank for pushing him to join an extracurricular activity so he could make more friends.

Though Hiro, Suguru and Tatsuha were his best friends, Shuichi hadn’t told them about what had transpired back in Byakko. They suspected something, Shuichi knew they did, but much to his relief, they haven’t--as of yet--pried. For that, he was grateful. Maybe one day, he’d tell them, but for now, he’d rather they remain ignorant.

“And hey,” Hiro continued, his voice breaking into Shuichi’s melancholy thoughts, “you never know. Eiri might be there.”

The name of Tatsuha’s older brother had Shuichi blushing.

Hiro laughed at his red-faced friend.

 

* * *

 

**That Night - Arashi, Tokyo, Japan - Mr. Karaoke Bar**

Was it considered voluntary when you chose to step inside the one establishment you never would have otherwise in order to bang the smoking hot chick you picked up at the bar? Because Eiri did not. Allowing himself to be dragged into a karaoke bar was not the same thing as walking in under your own power. The chick--whatever the hell her name was--was lucky she was hot: more curves than an hourglass, breasts bigger than her poor dye jobbed head, a skirt tighter than a virgin and so short it didn’t even cover her ass and a halter top that refused to stay put. Well, maybe “hot” wasn’t the right word to describe her, but it was the only one he could say to her face that wouldn’t result in him getting slapped.

Eiri may have been led here by his raging libido, but he was damned if he was going to actually get up on that little stage in the private room the chick had rented for the next hour and sing. He did not sing. Even if he weren’t tone deaf, he still would not perform a duet with the chick or serenade her as she has been pushing him to do. Hot or not, there were some things Eiri just wouldn’t do.

Besides, he was starting to question the rationality of his decision. Sure this chick was hot; she was sex on legs, but what good did it do him when he had to put up with every other aspect of her personality before he could fuck her? It didn’t take being alone with her for more than five seconds to realize that that old adage had some truth to it: never judge a book by its cover. To put it simply, this smoking hot chick he’d been hoping to bang was annoying as all hell. Actually, like “hot” wasn’t the right word to describe her looks, “annoying” was definitely an understatement when it came to her personality.

The most prominent aspect of her personality that he was just beginning to get to know, and which was starting to overshadow her “hotness”, was her inability to sing. For someone who claimed to be a karaoke junkie, she couldn’t sing her way out of a paper bag and it had nothing to do with her poor attempts at English. At the moment, she was screeching out some love ballad from an American band called Chicago. Being forced to sit there listening to what she called “singing” was kin to torture. It was cruel and unusual punishment--nails on the chalkboard. It was a wonder his ears weren’t bleeding.

When the song finally ended, Eiri clapped and whistled enthusiastically--not because she was that good, but because he was glad it was over.

Grinning, the chick hopped off the stage with a girlish giggle and meandered her way to the U-shaped sofa he was reclining on with an exaggerated swing of her hips. She cuddled against his side with her legs pulled up underneath her, wrapped her arms around his and looked up at him like a love struck schoolgirl.

Okay this definitely had been a bad idea, Eiri thought as his eye twitched.

He had to get out of there.

With his practiced fake smile in place, Eiri smoothly extracted himself from the chick’s vise-like grip and stood up. Inwardly, he sneered as the chick pouted. He took her hand within his, being careful of her obscenely long fingernails, and pressed his lips to the back of her hand. “As much as it dreads me to part from you for even a little moment, I must.”

“But where are you going?” the chick whined.

Eiri fought back the cringe. Even her normal voice was grating. Dear God and he’d wanted to fuck her? It was no wonder the chick dressed as she did. Sex appeal blinded males from noticing the females’ faults. “Fear not, my love, I’m just going to the little boys room. Why don‘t you find a song for us in the meantime?”

The chick flashed him a toothy grin. “Okay!” Like a child on Christmas morning, the chick jumped up off the sofa and skipped to the stage where the book that listed the songs available for karaoke was. Humming, she started flipping through the pages.

Eiri took the opportunity to throw a sneer at the woman’s back before he all but ran for the door. Flinging open the door, he stepped out into the much cooler hallway and shut the door behind him, breathing a sigh of relief and wondering how long it would take the chick to realize he’d ditched her then realized he didn’t much care.

He took a moment to gather his bearings before he started down the hall towards the exit.

That was another aspect of the chick that eclipsed her “hotness”: she couldn’t follow simple directions. How hard was it to understand, “Room seven is down the hall to the left. It’ll be the third door on the right”?

She was the epitome of the clueless blonde.

Eiri just turned the corner when a familiar figure darted across the hall several yards down the hall causing his confident stride to pause. He blinked after the figure as it vanished within one of the private karaoke rooms. “Tatsuha?”

What was his brother doing here? He’d been under the impression that Tatsuha was hanging out with friends. Usually that consisted of camping out in someone’s living room watching anything Nittle Grasper all night. That his little brother would decide to spend his time doing karaoke was unlike him…Then again, the entire Nittle Grasper catalogue was available on karaoke as far as Eiri knew, so maybe he being here instead of with his face plastered to the television wasn’t so unusual.

Speaking of which, he wondered if that Shuichi guy was one of the friends his brother was with. Not that it mattered to him either way, Eiri decided even while his face grew warm. The brat was brash, loud, obnoxious, cute--Eiri shook that thought right out of his head. What the hell was wrong with him? Thinking the Nittle Grasper obsessed brat was--cute? Ugh! Obviously being forced to endure the intolerable presence of the chick had affected him more than he’d thought.

Eiri continued his trek down the corridor, intending to head to the front lobby and out the front door to the parking lot where he’d parked his car, but he came to a screeching halt outside of the very door that he’d seen Tatsuha vanish through mere minutes before.

That voice!

Eiri turned towards the door to the private karaoke room and noticed that the door had not been latched properly. Typical Tatsuha, Eiri thought with a derisive sneer. He stepped forward and carefully pushed open the door a little wider, thankful it didn‘t creak--not that it would be heard over the blast of noise that poured out of the room and washed over Eiri. Peeking in through the wide crack he’d made, Eiri froze at the sight that greeted him.

Upon the stage was the brat, or so he thought it was him. Eiri was so used to seeing him in that baggy school uniform that to see him in a pair of tight, formfitting jeans and an equally tight belly barring half shirt had him ogling the teen-

And was that _pink hair_? Dear Lord in Heaven what had the brat done to himself?

With an exasperated sigh, Eiri shook his head.

The brat, pink hair and all, was currently dancing around the stage singing a song that didn’t sound familiar in the least, but given the music video that was playing upon the screens behind him, it was a Cyndi Lauper song.

For someone who did not speak a lick of English, or so his brother claimed, the brat had good diction.

And one hell of a fine ass.

He’d also heard, again through Tatsuha, that the brat was in a band that called themselves “Bad Luck” or something, but that wasn’t so unusual. Every teenage boy, at one time or another, was in a band, so he hadn’t given it much thought-

But wow!

The kid was pretty good--of course, he would not be admitting that aloud anytime soon. Instead, he pulled out his phone and started recording.

 

* * *

 

**Midnight**

Eiri was idling at the curb a little ways down the street from the karaoke bar.

He’d been sitting there for at least forty-five minutes before he watched his date, almost as irate as Eiri imagined Lucifer was when he got his ass booted out of Heaven, storm out of the establishment and down the street away from where he was parked. Each time her sky-high heels met the sidewalk it sounded like a sonic boom. Then her heel snapped, which sent her sprawling face first into a rubbish pile one of the shop owners had left sitting out on the curb. Eiri could not remember laughing so hard in his entire life. He very nearly pissed his pants.

Less than half an hour later, he watched as the first of Shuichi’s group of friends exited Mr. Karaoke Bar.

Eiri would not go so far as to call the kid--whatever the hell his name was--a friend of Tatsuha’s simply because the two did not get along. They put up with one another for Shuichi’s sake.

Eiri recognized the kid immediately as his brother-in-law Tohma’s cousin. The resemblance was uncanny.

According to Tatsuha, the kid was part of Bad Luck; he was the musical arranger and keyboardist, or something. Tatsuha called him a genius, but Eiri would expect nothing less of a member of Tohma’s family.

At sixteen, the same age as Tatsuha, the kid was shorter even than Shuichi, though he acted as if he were thirty--again, this was according to Tatsuha, but Eiri had to agree. The kid had this haughty air about him even when he was just waiting at the curb.

If Eiri remembered correctly, the kid’s father was a doctor--a cardiologist or something Tohma said.

Not long after, a car pulled up and the kid hopped in before it sped off into the night.

Almost as soon as the car carrying the Mini Tohma drove off, two more from Shuichi’s group exited Mr. Karaoke Bar. One was Tatsuha. The other guy was only slightly shorter--Eiri would guess by a mere inch--but more heavy set, had long red hair and was wearing a black leather jacket. The guy looked like he would fit in perfectly with an eighties hair band. He and Tatsuha were deep in discussion about something. Whatever it was, it distracted his normally horny pervert of a baby brother from eying the fine piece of ass he passed as the two teens strolled down the street together; ironically, they headed in the same direction as Eiri’s date from earlier.

Three down. One to go.

Eiri shifted his attention from his brother’s retreating back to Mr. Karaoke Bar’s glass front doors just as one of the door were flung open and Shuichi--in all his pink glory--danced out onto the sidewalk while talking rapidly into what Eiri was assuming was the baka’s cellphone.

Starting the car, Eiri shifted the car in drive and pulled forward slowly so that he was driving alongside Shuichi who was practically skipping down the sidewalk and humming quite loudly. In the time it had taken Eiri to catch up to him, the seventeen year old had obviously finished his call for the cellphone was nowhere to be seen.

Rolling down the passenger side window, Eiri leaned forward over the passenger seat and called out, “Hey.”

Startled, Shuichi glanced over his shoulder at the black Mercedes rolling alongside him. He gave it an unimpressed once over and was about to return to ignoring it when the interior light came on illuminating a very familiar blond haired man.

Immediately, his face flooded with color and heat and suddenly he found the ground really interesting.

“Hi,” he mumbled shyly.

Eiri smirked at the reaction a simple greeting had garnered him. “Want a ride?”

Whether intentional or not, the double entendre caused Shuichi’s face to go from the pinkish hue that it had been only seconds before to a bright red. It was giving off so much heat you might just be able to make a stir-fry on it.

“Or I can just take you home if you prefer,” Eiri continued as if he knew where the younger male’s thoughts had gone.

Shuichi knew he was being teased, but his face still took on the color of a boiled lobster.

Eiri’s grin widened at the sight, chuckling softly. He wondered if someone’s head could explode from blushing too much.

Violet eyes peeked at the other.

Should he allow a ride from this man? Shuichi didn’t see a reason not to. It wasn’t as if Eiri was a stranger; he was Tatsuha’s brother. While the man never hung out with them, preferring to close himself into his study whenever Tatsuha brought them over, and usually was seen with a scowl on his face whenever he ventured out of his study, Shuichi strangely trusted him.

Eiri regarded the younger male with an eyebrow cocked in question.

This caused the blush, which had begun to fade from Shuichi‘s face, to re-intensify. “O-okay,” he stuttered.

Smirking, feeling a smug pride at the positive response, Eiri leaned farther over the passenger seat for the passenger door handle, gave it a yank and pushed open the door for the pink-haired teen.

With a shyly mumbled, “Thanks,” Shuichi lifted the strap of his messenger bag over his head and slid into the passenger seat as Eiri sat up, an arm draped along the back of the passenger seat, watching the teen shut the car door before putting on his seatbelt.

“Ready?” Eiri inquired as Shuichi sat demurely with his bag on his lap.

Shuichi nodded, his face still resembling a boiled lobster, as he stared down at the car mat beneath his feet.

Chuckling, Eiri checked the rearview and side mirrors before pulling away from the curb and into traffic.

Shuichi‘s head snapped up and around. “Wait,” he cried out in panic. “What about Tatsuha?”

“What about him?”

Shuichi turned to regard the older male. “Aren’t you going to wait for him?”

“Why would I?”

“I-Aren’t you-Didn’t you come to take him home?”

“He took the motorcycle. Besides, he left with that red-haired guy right before you came out of that karaoke place.”

“Oh,” Shuichi mumbled, slumping lower in the seat, his face red in embarrassment. “Wait.” His brows drown in confusion, he shot up. “Isn’t Tatsuha sixteen?”

“I guess. Why?”

“Isn’t he too young to be driving?”

Unconcerned, Eiri shrugged. “Who knows.”

“He can get into serious trouble!”

“His problem.”

“But you’re his guardian!”

“So?”

Shuichi opened his mouth to argue about the seriousness of the situation, but closed it without saying anything. He’d been friends with Tatsuha long enough to know that no matter what anybody said, Tatsuha did whatever it was Tatsuha wanted.

It was a teenager thing.

Though Tatsuha was about two years younger than him, he looked as if he was the same age as Eiri, so it wasn’t as if he was going to be stopped because he didn’t look old enough to be driving. But Shuichi worried about if Tatsuha was in an accident. Tatsuha being sixteen and not having his license could get him into serious trouble. What if he came upon a sobriety checkpoint? They had those all over the place on holidays.

“If my idiot younger brother wants to act like the idiot that he is,” Eiri continued as he slowed at a light, “then he is free to do so and if his ass winds up in jail, he can stay there until he’s arraigned. I sure as hell ain‘t bailing his ass out.”

Shuichi blinked at the man. “That’s-”

“-what I told him after I grounded his ass for taking the bike the first time after I told him no when he asked.”

“I was going to say harsh.”

Eiri shrugged.

When the light turned green, the Mercedes shot forward.

“Aren’t you, ya know, worried that something might happen? I mean, won‘t you get in trouble as his guardian?”

“If that happens, I’ll be shipping his ass to Mika.”

“Your--sister, right?” Shuichi remembered Tatsuha saying something about an older sister.

Eiri hummed in response.

“Why doesn’t she have custody of Tatsuha?”

“They don’t get along.”

“Oh.”

“…Neither of us get along with her, actually,” Eiri continued after a short lull in conversation.

“Really? Why?”

Eiri shrugged as he turned onto what he remembered as being Shuichi’s street. “She has a tendency to forget that she’s our sister and not our mother. She means well,” he added hurriedly, “but…She can be--overbearing.” Understatement of the millennium, he thought. If Mika had gained custody of Tatsuha, they would have killed one another within a week.

Shuichi turned to watch the dark row of houses pass silently.

As an only child, he’d always envied Tatsuha and Hiro who both had siblings. They always complained about how annoying their siblings were, how they wished they were only children and how Shuichi was lucky that he was. Shuichi couldn’t agree less.

He hadn’t realized that he’d started to fall asleep until he was jerked awake when the car rolled to a stop.

Stretching, Shuichi glanced out the car windows to see just where they were and came to realize that they were at his grandmother’s house already.

The car doors simultaneously unlocked. The sound was loud in the otherwise silence of the car.

Unhooking the seatbelt, Shuichi gathered his bag, which had slipped from his lap onto the floor. Fiddling with the strap of the bag, and feeling shy all of a sudden, Shuichi returned to staring at his feet.

Even in the dark interior, Eiri could see the rosy flush working its way up Shuichi’s neck.

“Well, uhm, thanks--for the ride.”

“No problem.”

Shuichi reached for the handle and gave it a yank. The door popped open. He pushed it open, but didn’t get out. Instead, he turned back towards the other man. “Do you, uhm, want to come in, or something?”

With a smile, Eiri shook his head. “Some other time?”

A wide grin spread across Shuichi’s face. “It‘s a date!” His face grew warm as he realized what he’d said.

“Definitely,” Eiri agreed.

Giddy, Shuichi stepped out onto the curb, shutting the car door behind him, and started up the walk to the house as he dug within his bag for his keys.

The porch light was on as was a light in the living room he noticed. That wasn’t so unusual. His grandmother always left a light on for him.

As he stepped onto the porch, he glanced back and noticed Eiri had remained idling at the curb.

Shuichi unlocked the front door, pushed it open and turned back to wave. There was a short honk in reply before the Mercedes pulled away from the curb and drove off down the street, vanishing quickly from sight.

Sagging against the doorframe, a lopsided grin on his face, Shuichi heaved a sigh.

“He’s a nice catch.”

Startled, Shuichi jumped around with a yelp to see his grandmother standing at the foot of the stairs with a grin on her face and a glass of water in her hand.

Grinning, Maiko Negishi winked at her blushing grandson before trooping up the second floor.

 

* * *

 

**An Hour Later - Uesugi Residence**

Not surprisingly, Tatsuha wasn’t home yet.

Eiri glanced up from the manuscript he was reading--it’d been sent to him via his agent who wanted his honest opinion of the author‘s first novel-length story that could be quoted on the back of the dust jacket--and caught the time on the DVD player, the illuminated green numbers glowing eerily in the shadowy corner of the living room. It was a little after one. After marking his place, Eiri set the manuscript aside and reached for his phone.

“‘Get home’,” he text his git of a little brother.

He was about to toss the phone back on the table when the video icon on the screen caught his attention. That was when he remembered that he’d recorded Shuichi a short time ago at Mr. Karaoke Bar singing that Cyndi Lauper song.

He wondered…

Last time he spoke with his brother-in-law, the man said that he was looking for more acts to sign to his fledgling record company. While Eiri wasn’t sure how good Shuichi’s band was--Bad Luck he remembered it was called--or whether or not they were even interested in a record deal, Eiri was certain of one fact: Shuichi had It. He was exactly what his brother-in-law was looking for.

Hoping he wasn’t going to regret this, Eiri decided to email a copy of the video to his brother-in-law before deciding to pack it in for the night.

 

* * *

 

**Next Afternoon**

A blurry-eyed Tatsuha finally stumbled into the house at a quarter to noon the next day.

Standing in the threshold between the living room and the short hallway that led into the kitchen, leaning against the wall with a mug cupped in his hands, his expression giving nothing away, Eiri watched the teen silently.

It had taken two hours for the sixteen-year-old idiot to get back to him after he sent his little brother that text. Being woken at three o’clock in the morning out of a sound sleep was not Eiri’s idea of a good time.

Apparently, Tatsuha had crashed over at Hiro’s place last night. Having no idea who this Hiro was, Eiri assumed it was that redhead he’d seen his brother leaving the karaoke place with. Personally, like he told Shuichi the night before, he did not care what Tatsuha did--to a point; Eiri would appreciate it very much if Tatsuha didn’t do anything that would embarrass either him or their family. It would be very much welcomed if he knew where his little brother was when he was out--just in case something happened.

Now here the mini-him was: hung-over.

Tatsuha was lucky Eiri had custody of him and not their father or Mika; otherwise, Tatsuha’s ass would be grass right about now. Neither their father nor their older sister would allow Tatsuha to get away with even a quarter of the things Eiri let slide--or maybe it was because it was Eiri that Tatsuha felt the need to act out.

Well, as long as he didn’t get himself or someone else killed or got arrested; in that case, Tatsuha was on his own as Eiri had made clear more than once.

Slowly sipping his tea, Eiri watched his brother as the sixteen year old struggled with his shoes, nearly toppling over when he lost his balance. It looked like Tatsuha and the shoes were playing tug of war--with the shoes winning.

Eiri chuckled quietly.

Finally, the shoes were off--with twin thunks as they hit the floor.

After tripping over the raised lip that separated the entrance hall with the rest of the house, Tatsuha stumbled to the staircase that led up to the second floor of the condominium.

Eiri snorted into his tea.

With the way Tatsuha was weaving from one side of the staircase to the other, in an attempt to climb said staircase, it gave the impression that he was on board a ship that was currently going through rough seas.

“Just a little FYI,” he shouted louder than was necessary after his brother, who winced and clutched his head in response, “we’re out of coffee.”

Eiri chuckled at the grumbled curses as he pushed away from the wall, turned around and headed into his office, which was across the hall from the laundry room.

Shutting his office door behind him, he made his way across the room to the desk. He set his mug down well away from his laptop and pulling out the desk chair, settled into it. Wheeling the chair back to the desk, he woke the sleeping laptop by running a finger over the touchpad. What popped onto the screen were notes and a rough outline for his next novel. He was taking a bit of a break from the novella he was working on for yet another compilation book.

He minimized the screen and logged onto the internet in order to check his email. Not only was he waiting on some information from a colleague who worked for Interpol, information he would use for his next novel, but he was hoping to have a message from Tohma about the recording he sent the man last night.

It did not surprise Eiri to discover Tohma replied to his email less than an hour later even though it was two o’clock in the morning at the time. It did not matter the time, day or night, or what the man was doing at the time, Tohma always seemed to have time for him--even when his services weren’t needed.

This was one time Eiri was thankful for the man’s unwanted attention.

“I have meetings all morning and another one this evening, but I should be in the office all afternoon.”

Eiri checked the time. It was a little after noon.

Logging out, he saved his work and shut everything down before making his way to the kitchen to dump his now cold tea. Washing out the mug, he set it down to dry on the towel that was set out on the counter.

Detouring back to his office for his wallet, cellphone and his keys, he headed out to tell Shuichi what he hoped would be welcome news.

 

* * *

 

**20 Minutes Later - Negishi Residence**

According to Tatsuha, Shuichi lived with his eighty-two year old maternal grandmother, Maiko Negishi, though he was uncertain as to the reason why. What his brother did know was that when Shuichi was a toddler, his father died in a car accident and his mother--who was still very much alive--was a nurse at Byakko General Hospital in Kyoto. Up until two years ago, Shuichi lived with his single, widowed mother in Byakko until he moved here to Arashi to live with his grandmother--who herself was widowed. Eiri would be lying if he said he wasn’t the least bit curious as to why Shuichi moved in with his grandmother. It couldn’t have been to go to school as Shuichi would have been in the middle of his second year in high school at the time.

As Eiri pulled up to the house, he noticed who had to be Shuichi’s grandmother in the front yard. Wearing a wide brimmed hat, the elderly woman was perched upon a stool and bent over the flowerbed that lined the front porch. There was a tray of flowers at her feet waiting to planted.

Silence descended upon the neighborhood as the engine of Eiri’s Mercedes was shut off.

As he palmed his keys and pressed the seatbelt release, he wondered how best to approach Shuichi. That the audition at NG productions, and with the president and founder himself, had been procured through connections Eiri had with the head of the company and not through Shuichi’s own merits might be a sticking point. But it wasn’t as if being signed onto the fledgling record company was a sure-fire thing. Today’s meeting was nothing more than an interview.

After checking that no vehicles were coming, Eiri opened the car door and stepped out into the street. He noticed how peaceful the neighborhood was as he shut the car door, locking it and setting the alarm via key fob. Even though their neighborhoods were only a short drive apart, they were as different as night and day. He could definitely imagine raising a family here, he decided.

An image of a certain pink-haired wonder flashed through his mind.

He smirked.

“He’s inside.”

“Huh?” was Eiri’s oh-so-eloquent reply. With one foot resting on the curb and the other still in the street, he came to a halt, blinking blankly at the woman whom had spoken. It was the woman whom had been, just moments earlier, tending the front garden--the woman he suspected was Shuichi’s grandmother.

“My grandson,” the elderly woman, whom Eiri now he was indeed Shuichi’s grandmother, said. “You’re here to see him right?”

“Oh! Yes, Ma’am.” Eiri cringed. Maybe he should have called. Just showing up out of the blue like this-

“Go on in. Last I saw him, he was in the kitchen.”

Eiri blinked. Part of him wanted to ask if she was sure it was alright for him to just waltz into her house; she didn’t even know him. But the others were all in agreement that if she wasn’t sure, she wouldn’t have told him to do it. “Thank you, Ma’am,” he said, including a nod as he expressed his gratitude.

Eiri passed through the gate, making sure to close and latch it behind him, and made his way up the front walk and into the house, all the while aware of Shuichi’s grandmother watching him with a critical eye.

He couldn’t help wondering if she would come after him with a shotgun if he ever hurt her grandson.

The interior of the house was frigid. It was like stepping into a walk-in freezer. He shivered violently in reaction.

Wondering how Shuichi could stand the cold, Eiri toed off his shoes and placed them neatly besides Shuichi’s; he knew the worn, once-upon-a-time-white sneakers were Shuichi’s because Eiri remembered those as being the shoes Shuichi wore the night before.

Stepping up into the house, Eiri allowed his hazel eyes, golden as the sun, to roam about the house. It was an exact replica of the house from The Grudge. Talk about creepy. Having been dragged to see the movie by Tatsuha several times, Eiri expected to see that ghost-girl crab walking down the stairs.

He was just about to call out to Shuichi when a series of framed photographs hanging on the wall above a sideboard along the far wall opposite the front door caught his attention. Intrigued, he approached the antique piece of furniture for a closer look at the photographs.

Immediately, he recognized Shuichi’s grandmother in several of them even though in the photographs, taken over the span of decades, the woman was more heavyset than she currently was. Other than the weight gain, and the obviously weight loss, Mrs. Negishi hadn’t changed much over the years.

Among the photographs decorating the wall were two that appeared to be the main focus with the others framing them. The first was an old black and white wedding photo that had obvious signs of restoration. The second photograph was what appeared to be a family photo.

The young bride and groom in the wedding photo--who he was assuming was Shuichi’s grandparents as he could see a bit of Shuichi in the couple--who were in traditional Japanese wedding outfits, were nothing more than children. It wouldn’t surprise him if that were the case. His own maternal grandparents had barely had their high school diplomas in hand before they were whisked off to the altar. In their case, his grandmother had been pregnant. In the family photo an older version of the groom in the wedding photo was front and center. The man‘s wife and three children--two girls and a boy--surrounded him. Eiri wondered if the photo was taken not long before Shuichi’s grandfather passed away. Mr. Negishi looked rather unwell.

Eiri skimmed over the other photographs decorating the walls. There were group shots of the Negishi children as children and as adults, them with their spouses and children, one of the grandchildren together and…

Squinting, Eiri leaned closer to one particular photograph. If he didn’t know any better, he would say the teenage boy with the gorgeous amethyst eyes was--

“Eiri?”

The blond writer turned to find Shuichi standing in the threshold between the kitchen and the short hallway that led out from it, a plate holding a sandwich in his hands.

“Hey,” Eiri returned.

“What’re you doing here?” Shuichi asked in blatant surprise.

Eiri was at a loss as how to reply. He wanted the audition to be a surprise. It was when he saw what he assumed was supposed to be Shuichi’s lunch did an answer come to him. “I wanted to see if you wanted to come to lunch.”

The those incredibly bejeweled eyes widened. “With you?” the not quite eighteen year old breathed.

Eiri mentally rolled his eyes. “Unless you’d rather lunch with yourself. In that case I‘ll just-”

“No!”

Eiri cocked an eyebrow, the corners of his lips threatening to twitch in amusement, at the almost panic-stricken expression that flashed across the teenager’s face.

His face growing flushed, Shuichi stammered, “I, uh, mean-Give me a sec!” With that, he turned and fled back into the kitchen. There was a series of bangs and thuds and several muffled curses.

Shaking his head continued amusement, Eiri turned back towards the wall of photos. At once one photograph in particular grabbed his attention; it was the one he’d been looking at before his attention had been grabbed by the pink haired wonder. The amethyst eyes of the severely obese teen reminded him vividly of Shuichi, eyes the seventeen year old apparently inherited from his mother and grandmother, but…

The boy in the photograph being hugged by Mrs. Negishi didn’t resemble Shuichi in the slightest--at least the Shuichi he had come to know over the past two years--but none of the other Negishi grandchildren had that beautifully hypnotic bejeweled eyes.

Other than being at least two hundred pounds overweight, the boy had glasses thicker than those vintage Coke bottles his cousin collected; his face resembled a Pepperoni Lover’s pizza from Pizza Hut and both his shoulder length jet-black hair as well as his severely blemished face glowed with enough grease to fill McDonald’s fryers for a year. And was that--Eiri’s eyes narrowed as he leaned in closer to get a better look at the photograph--dandruff?

There was a sharply indrawn breath behind him.

Eiri turned to see a pale faced Shuichi watching him in horror. That was when Eiri realized that that disgustingly grotesque boy in the photograph was indeed the same boy standing in front of him.

How…?

“That’s you in the photo?” It was more a statement than question.

Shuichi winced, but nodded, a solemn expression on his face.

“It doesn’t look like you,” he commented. “Except for the eyes. You have beautiful eyes.” His face growing warm at the words that seemed to just slip unbidden from his mouth, Eiri peered at the pink haired baka from the corner of his eye and noticed that Shuichi’s fierce blush from the night before was back. It gave Eiri a smug feeling.

He wanted to ask what the catalyst was that caused Shuichi to lose the weight, but given the earlier reaction Shuichi had when he discovered Eiri studying the unflattering picture, Eiri decided to wait until Shuichi was ready. Instead, he asked what happened to his glasses.

“Got rid of them.”

Obviously, Eiri thought in derision with a snort and a mental roll of his eyes. “You wear contacts?”

Shuichi nodded. “I started wearing ‘em a couple years ago.”

As he himself was nearsighted, Eiri didn’t see the point in exchanging his glasses for contacts, especially when he only wore his glasses a small percentage of the time.

“Well,” Eiri said into the lull that had fallen. “You ready then?”

A grin on his face, Shuichi nodded enthusiastically.

Eiri chuckled. Stepping aside, he waved his hand out towards the front door.

With a giggle and his cheeks rosy, Shuichi skipped passed him to grab his sneakers while cheering mentally, “A date! A date! I have a date!”

 

* * *

 

**Half an Hour Later - NG Productions**

With the turn signal blinking, the sleek black Mercedes slowed as it approached the turnoff that led to the underground parking garage beneath one of the tallest buildings in downtown Chiyoda, which also happened to house NG Productions.

“Where are we? I thought we were going to lunch.” a confused Shuichi asked with growing apprehension.

“We are.”

Frowning, Shuichi studied the Black Hole at the end of the sloped drive they were slowly approaching.

“There’s something I have to do first,” Eiri continued as he slowed to a stop before the downed barrier that stretched across the entrance like an arm.

“Oh.”

Eiri snagged the NG Productions employee ID keycard that his brother-in-law had personally given to him from under the clip on the sun visor. Rolling down the passenger side window, Eiri leaned over Shuichi--smirking when he noticed this caused a rosy flush to color the teen’s naturally tanned complexion--to hand the photo ID to the security guard in the booth. He would have given it to Shuichi to give to the guard, but that would defeat the purpose of keeping this little adventure a secret.

The guard, whom Eiri immediately recognized though he couldn’t remember his name, stepped down out of the booth and bent down to peer into the car. His dark eyes went from the photograph on the employee ID keycard to Eiri behind the wheel.

“Have a good afternoon,” the guard said when he was satisfied, handing the ID back.

“Thank you,” Eiri returned.

The guard stepped back into the booth and moments later, the barrier lifted.

Shuichi’s brow was furrowed in renewed confusion as the Mercedes drove forward. He’d caught a glimpse, brief though it was, of a black logo on the face of the--thingy Eiri gave the guard at the gate. It’d given him a strong feeling of déjà vu, like he’d seen it somewhere before, but he couldn’t be sure until he was given a better look at it. Frowning, Shuichi eyed the card that had been returned to the sun visor as Eiri wove expertly through the underground parking garage, alternating light and shadow being beamed into the car’s interior.

“Where are we?” The question slipped from his mouth without his consent, but he didn’t regret asking. Something fishy was going on. Maybe it was simple paranoia, but something was telling him that Eiri was not being completely truthful.

Eiri eyed the teen as he pulled into his reserved spot, once again thanks to one Tohma Seguchi, not far from the elevators. “My brother-in-law asked me to stop by. It shouldn’t take long.”

Slowly, Shuichi nodded.

Shuichi tried to ignore the insistent voice nagging away at him at the back of his mind that was telling him that once again Eiri had avoided answering the question, something he was all too well aware of thank you very much, as he followed Eiri out of the car and into the elevator.

Much to his delight, his favorite Nittle Grasper song was being pumped over the elevator speakers instead of the usual music one hears in an elevator--if music was being played at all that was.

Bopping his head to the beat, his humming morphing into full out singing, Shuichi was easily able to forget his misgivings about this outing.

Meanwhile, from his slouched position against the back wall of the elevator car, Eiri watched the pink-haired baka in amusement, wondering if Shuichi would faint when he realized where they were and why.

 

* * *

 

When the elevator finally made it to the top floor where the executive offices were held, including Tohma’s, after what felt like an eternity, a brilliant ping sounded over the song blaring over the elevator car speakers--according to Shuichi, the song was from a band called Attack Crew who happened to be one of the first signed onto Tohma Seguchi’s record label, which did not surprise him in the least (not Shuichi’s seemingly endless music knowledge nor to the fact that his brother-in-law would play only music from those under his employ).

The doors slid open and the two exited the car.

Eiri sneered at the sight that greeted him.

The whole building had been undergoing an extensive renovation ever since Tohma purchased it several years back. It was a slow process considering the building was the largest in the city. The Executive floor had yet to be touched though, so a dated deep burgundy threadbare runner carpeted the floor and dark faux wooden paneling covered the walls. Fluorescent lighting illuminated the halls from a dropdown ceiling.

“It looks like my doctor’s office,” Shuichi commented.

Eiri snorted. “Mine too,” he agreed.

Shuichi giggled.

“Actually,” Eiri continued as he really studied his surroundings for the first time, “it looks exactly like my doctor’s office.”

“Your brother-in-law isn’t a doctor is he?” Shuichi asked in faux seriousness, gazing at the older man out of the corner of his eye.

The inquiry had Eiri barking out a laugh. The mere idea was ludicrous. Other than his wife, music was Tohma’s entire life. In fact, sometimes music won out over Mika Seguchi. But if the man had not become involved in music to some degree, the only other career Eiri could picture his brother-in-law in was as a Yakuza boss. “Uh no,” he answered Shuichi who was now staring at him wide-eyed wonder. “He’s just a cheapskate.”

“Huh?”

Eiri shook his head. It was either a cheapskate or a serious case of procrastination that the renovations hadn’t progressed any farther than they had, but seeing as the recording booths and conference and meeting rooms all had state of the art equipment, he was leaning more towards Tohma being a procrastinator than a penny-pinching sadist. That he would think of those under his employ over himself, leaving his own office until last, was very selfless of him. Then again, maybe it wasn’t so selfless. If the artists signed onto his label had the best of the best, it would aid in the sale of their records, which would increase profits for NG Productions. So, really, every executed decision made by Tohma was calculated and deliberate.

That was Tohma for you.

It took a moment for Eiri to situate himself before leading Shuichi down the hall towards what he hoped was Tohma’s office. He was grateful all the plaques that had plastered the walls during his other trips to NG Productions were missing; he wondered if that meant the renovations had finally reached the executive floor.

Admittedly, without the plaques and other memorabilia that used to line and decorate the hallway, the outdated décor of the top floor was made more glaringly obvious.

Finally, after many twists and turns, the two arrived at Tohma’s office. The gold plaque that used to be on the door was missing as well. Eiri was secretly pleased by this.

Opening the door, Eiri ushered Shuichi in ahead of him with a sweep of his hand before entering himself, making sure the door was closed behind him. Instead of stepping directly into Tohma’s office, they had entered what turned out to be an outer office where a woman, whom Eiri remembered as being his brother-in-law’s secretary, sat behind a desk across the room near the only other door, tapping away at a computer.

The woman glanced up from the computer monitor, without the tempo of her typing once changing, and smiled at them when the sound of the door opening caught her attention. “Afternoon, Mr. Uesugi. You can go right in.”

Eiri inclined his head in return.

Then the woman turned her attention to Shuichi and gave him a wink. “Good luck.”

“Huh?” Shuichi merely stared at the woman in incomprehension. He blinked. “Thank--you?”

With a hand on the teen’s lower back, Eiri guided Shuichi through the anteroom to the door opposite.

“What was that about?” Shuichi asked in a stage whisper as Eiri opened the door to Tohma‘s office and ushered him inside with a sweep of his hand. “Why was she wishing me luck? Eiri, what is going on?”

Eiri sighed.

“I take it, Eiri-kun,” said a new male voice, “that you have not explained to Mr. Shindou here as to the reason you both are here.”

“Obviously,” Eiri drawled to the short, blond haired man sitting behind a massive desk before a floor to ceiling window that took up the entire wall.

“Oh?” Tohma inquired with a raised eyebrow as he leaned back in his chair, his hands steepled in his lap.

“I wanted it to be a surprise.” The “obviously” was insinuated this time.

“And it appears you have been successful,” Tohma said, his gaze sliding to the pink haired teen who gazing at him as if he just stumbled upon Santa Clause on Christmas Eve. “Hello, Mr. Shindou.”

Shuichi’s mouth worked, but no sound issued forth.

“Oh my. I think we’ve broken him.”

Eiri snorted.

Finally, Shuichi stuttered out, “E-Ei-ri…Wha…?”

The blond haired author turned to face Shuichi and a gentle smile broke out across his face, softening the harsh lines that aged the twenty-two year old man.

Across the office, Tohma was stunned by the affect this seventeen year old boy had on his usually stoic brother-in-law. This boy was more intriguing than he initially thought.

“I was at the karaoke bar last night,” Eiri explained.

“Well, yeah,” Shuichi drawled. “You gave me a ride home.”

Eiri shook his head. “I mean, I was there inside. I heard you sing.”

The rosy flush was back. “You did?” Shuichi stuttered in embarrassment.

Fidgeting, Eiri scratched the back of his head; it was a nervous gesture he had thought he’d outgrown--guess not, he thought. “And I, uh, sorta…” Embarrassed, his voice trailed off.

“He secretly recorded you and sent the video to me,” Tohma summarized the events.

Shuichi’s eyes grew even more impossibly huge. Those bejeweled amethyst eyes swung between Eiri and Tohma and back. “Did you really?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Knowing full well that his face had to be resembling that of a boiled lobster, Eiri merely nodded. If he were to open his mouth, he would embarrass himself further.

Shuichi’s face took on an awed look. “Eiri.”

“Well, Mr. Shindou,” Tohma said as he pushed to his feet. “If you are ready, we can do down and met up with Mr. Nakano and Suguru.”

“Hiro and Fujisaki are here?” Shuichi asked, turning back towards the man he had idolized his entire life.

“Of course,” Tohma replied with a strange expression on his face. “They are part of your band are they not? Bad Luck I believe you are called.” He cast a glance at Eiri, who nodded, for confirmation. “It would make no sense for your band to audition if they weren’t here.”

The reaction that caused had Eiri chuckling silently.

Shuichi gaped. A mixture of emotions racing across his face; the most prominent was disbelief.

“So, if you are ready…?”

Nodding numbly, Shuichi went to take a step when his eyes rolled back and he fainted.

 

* * *

 

**A Year Later - Correctional Institution - Japan**

“…and in entertainment news, Bad Luck ends its national tour in support of their debut album, Gravity, tonight with a concert at Zepp Tokyo, of which tickets were sold out a mere half an hour after they went on sale.” The voice of the anchorman reverberated off the walls of the Solitary Confinement block where Taki Aizawa was being held along with several high profile offenders as well as a few convicts who wouldn’t last more than five minutes within regular population. “In other news…”

Stunned, Taki staggered away from the front of his cell, the bars slipping through his fingers and collapsed onto his bed.

He had been watching the evening news cast, like usual--this particular prison had televisions mounted within steel cages high up on the walls, which were turned on for an hour each day--and the last news story he expected to see that night--if ever--was one that involved that freak Shindou.

No, he refused to believe that hot piece of ass was the same freak that got him sent to prison.

They couldn’t be one and the same.

OK, so there was a slight resemblance. That didn’t mean anything.

The freak was a fat tub of lard who could make it snow in the middle of July just by shaking his head, whose face could be mistaken for a pepperoni pizza and who was so greasy, he could supply the entire world with oil for a decade or two.

The hot piece of ass was just that--perfect wanking material--

Fuck! Who was he trying to kid?

A laugh bubbled up within Taki and before he knew it, he was laughing. It was a derisive sound.

The freaky lard ass who’d smelled as if he’d bathed in onions had become a sex-god. Who knew?

 

* * *

 

**Midnight - Uesugi-Shindou Residence**

Eiri scoffed at the sight that greeted him as he stepped out of the master walk-in closet, which led to the attached master bath.

Shuichi was out cold. He hadn’t bothered to undress, shower off the funk and body glitter or take off his makeup. Apparently, he’d just staggered himself up to the master bedroom and fallen face first into bed.

Sighing, Eiri pushed away from the doorframe and strolled across the room to the bed of which he perched on the edge. He ran his fingers through his pink-haired lover’s hair and grimaced--hairspray and sweat. Wiping his hand against his sweat pants, Eiri stood up and undressed the baka singer--not that there was much to take off, given the skimpy stage attire. Then he rearranged Shuichi so that he wasn’t hogging the entire king-sized bed himself, which he had a tendency to do, before yanking back the bedcovers and tossing them over the eighteen year old--who would be nineteen in a month.

Shuichi had not so much as twitched.

Chuckling, Eiri kissed Shuichi chastely and muttered good night before slipping into bed besides him.

Almost immediately, Shuichi rolled over and clung to him, muttering sleepily, “Love you.”

Eiri rolled his eyes. The entire bed and Shuichi had to sleep right on top of him. Typical.

But still…

He reached out and turned off the bedside lamp.

It’d been worth it, he decided as sleep descended. Allowing himself to be dragged into that karaoke bar a year ago by that chick had turned out to be the best decision of his life. If it hadn’t been for his raging libido, he might never had gotten together with Shuichi.

“Love you, too,” he returned softly.

In the dark of their bedroom, Shuichi’s grip on him tightened.

Yes, most definitely the best decision of his life.

 

**…The End**  


End file.
